


Nightmare 2-2-14

by etherian



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Nightmare, Scary, recurring nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherian/pseuds/etherian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nightmare that woke me screaming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare 2-2-14

**I HATE CLOSETS**

_Nightmare 2-2-14_   
_6:04am_

I woke from an old, very old recurring nightmare. I screamed in my sleep. That's hard to do, and even harder to do with a dry mouth. The last time I had this nightmare my dad was still alive, and I was still a teenager. I screamed loud enough to wake dad from a dead sleep. I woke shaking, and although I had been a "grown-up" for a few years (that was 17) I held onto him tightly.

This time, I am now 51, and I was "rescued" by my husband who was watching the Mythbusters Horror Movie Special and he didn't know what he was hearing at first.

So, here I am calming the adrenaline in my heart, writing, and listening to Midnight Syndicate. Yeah, I ought to be listening to some John Denver!

**THE NIGHTMARE**

There was thunder, and lightning, and the lights had gone out. A scary scene right out of any old cheesy, scary movie. I am trying to navigate my way around the house (in the theatre I'm usually griping knowingly about why the stupid person is walking around exploring when they ought to just stay put!). Something is wrong, though. I know what it is, too, and I am wishing so... very... much... that I'm wrong.

There is a huge crack of thunder along with one of those ghastly streaks of lightning that lights up the shadows intermittantly -- _like the beating of a heart._

I turn to look towards my bedroom. My hearing -- not my normal hearing, but one that is beyond my physical body -- knows that the _closet door has been opened._

In one flash of that horrid lightning I see a hand curl around the edge of the open doorway.

In the second flash of lightning a head joins the hand. The head is above me by two feet.

In a third flash of lightning a partial silhouette of a body appears.

By the fourth lightning strike I am trying to scream. My throat seems to break... glass shatters... but then I do scream. I get my voice, and I scream... and scream... and scream... and pray deep down that I wake.

**THE SOURCE OF THE NIGHTMARE**

Hermann, Missouri. The second house we lived in. The first floor room that, after the ice and flood That One Winter, became my bedroom. I had one closet. It had a door with a handle and the door was pulled outward. There were places on either side to hang clothes, and above that shelves.

On one side of the closet was the main plumbing/sewage pipe that went through the original wooden floor and down into the basement that everyone seemed to hate. Not even my dog would go down there! Of course, that's another story.

Around that plumbing, which was new, by the way, since that main pipe was one that had frozen and burst That One Winter, the cut through the wood floor was jagged, and never was neatly finished off. It was that side of the closet that unnerved me, and when I had to go in the closet I tried not to look at it.

When I moved into that bedroom I began closing the closet at night. I always had done so before in all my bedrooms, but this was the first time that I felt like I was trying to keep something in there from getting out.

Even so, my precautionary measures were not enough. I cannot tell you how many times I woke at night, discovered that damn closet door was open when I know I closed it before I went to bed! I could see into it, and the depths were very dark, and I should never have been able to see anything, but I swear I always saw some sort of shadow, and I know it was looking right back at me.

I always seemed to manage enough courage to propel myself from the bed, to slam the door shut, and to leap back into bed.

Did I mention, my dog, Nikki, always slept in my bedroom, on my bed. He was the reason I had that courage.

One night, though, I woke to the door as it was opening. I was paralysed. I could only watch in utter horror as the door opened into the room exposing the well of darkness. And, I saw no shape, no shadow, but **_SOME THING_** was looking at me. I never, then, believed in demons, or evil, but _WHAT EVER was looking at Me_ was truly an evil darkness.

I was sure I had begun to scream. The door VIOLENTLY slammed shut. It was that noise, not my supposed scream, that my parents heard. My dad and mom ran down the hall to my room to see if I was all right, and to investigate the noise. Dad told me it was like a shotgun blast that shook the entire house.

The recurring nightmare began that night. It persisted all the way until after I married, and my husband and I moved to Redding, CA. I had the nightmare once more, and somehow I strangled the entity, and ordered it to never bother me again.

_Tonight I had the nightmare. The very old one I had as a teenager._

I have spent literally decades trying to convince myself that it was something explainable such as night terrors, or some angst from my depression. I still want to believe that but deep down I'm not as convinced.

I recall how many times I did my best to avoid my bedroom after that one night by watching PBS TV late at night (Doctor Who the 4th Doctor). I often slept on the couch. Not once did either of my parents ever tell me I had to sleep in my own bed, for which I am thankful for.

Something was in that house... that closet... and it came from that ghastly basement.

Of course, that basement is another story. The sun is rising, and its time for the morning pills, and breakfast.


End file.
